


I need a boy like you like a hole in my head

by MadameHardy



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Hate Sex, Rough Sex, Sexual Content, Troll Genitalia, Unusual Body Parts, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 03:14:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7342396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameHardy/pseuds/MadameHardy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Underneath the paint, Kurloz Makara has the most punchable mouth Porrim Maryam has ever seen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I need a boy like you like a hole in my head

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tanglelore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanglelore/gifts).



Porrim gave the security camera a wide-fanged smile. Then she whipped out her clamtop and entered the password for the pop-up coffee club.

"The hemo+spectrum o+bviously co+mpels o+ceanic lo+rds to+ go+vern us". 

Meenah opened the door. “Hurry up, Aranea saw him in the neighborhood!”

The pop-up coffee club had just one rule: Never, ever, on pain of culling, tell Kankri about the pop-up coffee club. Thus the password: Kankri's fingers would spontaneously explode if he ever tried to type it. 

Porrim walked through the entry hall of the abandoned highblood hive to the receiving room, then over to a pile of pillows and sat down, arranging the slit in her skirt to show her leg to best advantage. Meenah sniffed and ostentatiously took a pillow on the far side of the room, which was just fine by Porrim. Meenah, Aranea, and Cronus (ugh) were the only people there. Aranea was explaining something to Cronus; they glanced at her but didn't invite her over. Cronus was as afraid of Porrim as of having his bulge smashed. Mysterious, how he seemed to connect the two. 

The sign note taped over the takeout containers — nobody wanted to waste their time actually making coffee — read She Sells Sea-Shells. That meant Meenah had brought the coffee, which in turn meant it was kelp-flavored. Ugh.

But the point of the pop-up coffee club wasn't coffee. It was gossip. You could come to the coffee shop and just talk. Nobody telling you you were a bad troll, nobody extolling the hemospectrum, nobody killing each other. Mostly. 

"Mostly" was why it was a pop-up club. There might have been Extremely Antisocial Behavior Orders and forbidden-to-associate decrees. Might.

It was a bit past sunset, and the place wouldn't get lively until midnight or so. 'Tuna wouldn't be there anyway. He was off seeing his psychoterrorist; she'd have to double-check the meds, make sure they were safe, make sure he took them. Somebody had to keep an eye on Mituna, and somebody seemed to be her. He was just so — not pitiable, not pitiable, you don't like responsibility, remember?

Another troll walked into the room. It was Kurloz Makara, painted face masking whatever he was thinking. Kurloz had been annoying enough before he was formally consecrated to the Church. Now he was unbearable. She wrinkled her nose.

Makara strolled lazily across the room, then squatted down in front of Porrim, looming even when doubled up. "What's your problem, Maryam?"

"Get out of my face and I won't have one, Makara." She reached up a hand and didn't, quite, push his face backward. He snapped his fangs lazily. If he'd meant it, she'd have been lacking a hand. If he hadn't meant it, she was losing her touch.

"Showing off that pretty leg, for all the world to see. Makes me want to put some scars on, mark it up real nice."

Porrim snapped her own fangs and stretched her leg all the way, sliding her dress slit up to the thigh. "For all the world to see, perhaps, but not for you to touch. I wouldn't lower myself."

She felt a crackle of unease along her spine, ghosts dancing on the edge of her nerves. "Cheating already, Acolyte? Can't even have a friendly conversation without showing off your party trick?"

He leaned forward, bracketing her between his arms, full threat. Fuck him. She leaned into him and stared up into his eyes. "Mind fucks not enough, going physical? Not impressed, _acolyte_. "

There was a hiss from elsewhere in the room. "Don't interfere, I can take this asshole on my worst day, me half-drunk and him at his best."

"That right, _little_ sister?" Makara pulled back and stretched easily to his feet, towering over her, half again her height even slouching. 

If he wanted to play it that way… Porrim kicked off her shoes. No need to ruin perfectly good kitten heels. Then she stood and looked up at him, hands flexed loosely at her sides. "Size means nothing …. not that you'd know. Poor Meulin, she really deserves _more_."

"Keep my matesprit off your tongue or I'll rip it out."

She bared her teeth, slicked her tongue along her fangs, and closed her mouth again. "If I do tongue her, she'll be the happiest troll in town, happier than you've ever made her."

"You've made enough of the town _happy_ already. So much happiness. So wide- _spread_."

She laughed. "Threatened, Makara? Afraid of somebody who gets more _happiness_ than you'd ever allow yourself? Afraid of a woman who gets what she wants, when she wants it, how she wants it?"

The thrill along her spine got worse, spiders, centipedes, scorpions. "Afraid, little sister?"

"Is that the best you've got?"

The high, cracked subjuggulator voice dropped into his chest, became the low, velvet purr she remembered from before his consecration. "Not close to my worst. Want it?"

The awful thing was, she did. She wanted to claw that stupid suit off his bones. She wanted to make him pay attention, to submit, to … Oh, _fuck_. Libido, you pick the worst moments to speak up, you know that? The skittering up her spine had invaded her hindbrain and exploded into Yes and Now and More.

Porrim's forebrain gave up the fight. She bent her knees, leapt, and clawed her way up Makara like a stingercreep up a tree. Apparently his hindbrain was working on the same wavelength, because he didn't throw her across the room. One strong hand grabbed her ass, claws pricking through her dress, and the other grabbed the back of her hair and yanked, hard, exposing her throat. She lifted her chin a little higher, daring him to strike.

Without looking away from Porrim, Makara snarled, "Bar's closed, assholes. Get the fuck out."

"Afraid they'll see what a lousy pail you are?" Never breaking his gaze, she said, "You heard the fool. Get out."

She didn't care if they did or not; she'd hooked her claws in Makara's collar and begun to rip when he let go of her hair and grabbed her wrists in one enormous hand.

"You don't touch what's mine."

"I'll touch whatever I want." She twisted her wrists and broke his grip, then clawed again while she had the chance. She ripped through his shirt, clawtips scraping skin, and his fangs clamped down on her ear. Threat or promise?

Promise; he bit down, hard. Porrim cried out despite herself, then ripped harder, tearing skin. "That the best you've got?" 

Makara grabbed her shoulders and spun, pinning her against the wall with his hips. "You ain't worth my best."

"Fuck you, Makara!"

He slapped one long arm across her throat; she got her wrists up to protect her throat just in time. Bad move. Now Kurloz had one arm shoving her forearms and throat to the wall, leaving his other arm free. A clawtip traced slowly from her breasts to her groin. 

The shadows grew sharp against the wall. Kurloz laughed. "Pump you up high enough, trolls'll think it's dawn!"

Sometimes being a shadow drinker sucked. 

Porrim tried to knee Kurloz in the groin, but the ancestor-fucking skirt got in her way. He laughed, then hooked one claw into the neckline of her dress and ripped it down to the groin, leaving a line of blood behind. She couldn't help leaning into the touch. Porrim coughed, trying to speak; Kurloz loosened the pressure on her throat, barely enough to let air in.

"This isn't black."

"Fuck if it ain't. Ain't nohow permanent, neither."

"Deal. Get your mouth down here."

He did, still pinning the arm across her throat. She wanted to rip that arm off and shove it up his ass, but his mouth. Greasy black paint smeared her lips, the disgusting lingering taste of Faygo, it was awful. It was perfect. He bit her lip and she felt blood flowing, smearing into the paint over her mouth. He stuck his tongue in her mouth and she fanged it. Just a nip on the tip so he'd remember her every time he swallowed. It hurt and it felt great and she wanted more, and by the way his breath came fast and there was a writhing just below her butt, so did he. She pulled her mouth back. "Let me go, asshole."

He laughed, then leaned further in. She headbutted him, so hard tears came to her eyes, and gasped, "Put me down or it won't be half the fun it could be."

He dropped her. Fair enough. Porrim leaned back on her arms, thighs spread, and said, "What are you afraid of, _acolyte_?"

Damn, he was fast. He was kneeling between her legs, ripping her dress the rest of the way off. Before she could reciprocate, he had her wrists pinned in one hand, while he freed his bulge with the other.

Nice. Very nice. She took a closer look. Oh, my God, fucking spines? Only the Empress was supposed to have those "What the —"

He gave her a nasty grin. "Too much for you?"

Enough. Time for _her_ party trick. Porrim arched her back, pointed her bone bulge straight at his groin, and fired.

"The FUCK?", screamed Kurloz.

Porrim tugged a little to make sure the dart was seated, then began winching him in. "Too much for you?" 

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT FUCKING HERESY?"

"Standard issue for jades. We keep it between ourselves, nobody else knows about it." She kept winching; she didn't use those internal muscles often, because none of the other trolls she knew were chutespawn like Kurloz. He tried to pull back, but the dart didn't budge and the cord didn't break. She stopped when his groin was a handsbreadth away. "Well. Going to talk all day, or you going to do something with that bulge?"

He grinned under the smeared paint and snapped his hips forward. As he forced his bulge into her, Porrim slid hers into him. Not quite as big as his, but she knew how to —

Porrim stopped thinking. It was good. It hurt. Fuck, she needed this, fuck, the streeetch, the barbs, oh fuck more oh now morefuck FUUUUUUUUUUCK.

When she came back to herself he was still grinning. "Shot off, jadesis? That makes two. Let's make it three." He continued thrashing his bulge inside her, spines scraping a little with each motion. She gasped again.

"I'm gonna spoil you for any other troll, you're gonna wish —" Orgasm hit him, and he arched his back and screamed. Porrim slammed both hands over her ears but the scream still echoed, unbearable. The new pain slammed her over the peak again.

Once she was back to reality she saw Kurloz frozen, still propped on his arms, staring down at her, His makeup was smeared into an abstract swirl, making it even more impossible to pierce through to his expression. Their bodies might be joined, but their thoughts, never.

Kurloz snarled, swept his claws through her dart line, and pulled out; she screamed as the spines did their final work. She was lying in a puddle of nasty slurry, muddy brown-black soaking into the remnants of her dress. Worth it. Kurloz sprang to his feet, did up his own smeared pants, and leant over her again. As she scrambled back to her own feet, Kurloz spoke.

"Not bad. Ain't gonna happen again, so make the most of your memories."

She lifted her chin, daring him to attack. "Never again."

Makara turned, exposing his back to her as a final taunt, and walked out of the empty room.

Porrim started methodically stripping the covers from the pillows. She could cobble together some sort of body covering for the shuttlebuggy ride home; she wasn't going to risk being seen.

Never again. Too much was at stake, not just for her, but for Mituna and his unstable moods. Even if he could take Meulin, which she wouldn't bet against, he couldn't survive a revenge cycle.

Never again.

A shame.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to tanglelore for a spectacular and completely irresistible prompt.
> 
> This is set before Mituna became Porrim's moirail, but well into the period when she had pitying feelings for him. It is also set before Mituna and Meulin acquire their separate disabilities.
> 
> [Love darts](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Love_dart) are a real thing in Earth snails; I got the cord and winch from a description by Gerald Durrell.


End file.
